


Hymn for the Weekend

by amomentoflove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grey's Anatomy, Blood, Child Death, Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gun Violence, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Violence, it is a grey's anatomy au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6680848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amomentoflove/pseuds/amomentoflove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No,” Harry shakes his head and raises a hand to stop her. “This wasn’t your fault. He’s just a hot-headed ass who doesn’t like being on the bottom.” He walks out of the room then, going to check on other patients when he sees Dr. Tomlinson leaning against the nurse’s desk just outside of Kelli’s room looking over another patient’s chart.</p><p>“Actually, Dr. Styles,” the man speaks up, not looking up from the chart. “I prefer to be on the bottom. Being on the top isn’t too bad either. I guess you could say I’m versatile. What are you?”</p><p> <br/>Or the Grey's Anatomy AU where Louis is a neurosurgeon and Harry is a Pediatric surgeon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is the byproduct of binge watching Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix. (I have a problem) Please please PLEASE read the tags. Take note that this is a Grey’s Anatomy AU and takes place in a hospital. There are going be descriptions of surgeries, traumas, deaths and blood. If any of these sort of things is triggering for you, please don’t read this fic. Also, I am not a science major and I have zero clue about medical procedures. I will do my best to use correct terminologies and the names of medicines and such, but there definitely will be medical inaccuracies. 
> 
> Also, the boys will be American in this fic! Just as a sidenote. 
> 
> The title of the fic comes from Coldplay’s song called Hymn for the Weekend
> 
> Leave a comment telling me what you think!
> 
> Enjoy! [tumblr](http://www.daggerandrose.tumblr.com)

“What do you got?” Harry Styles, Head of Pediatric Surgery at Seattle Grace Hospital, questions as he walks into trauma room two.

“Female. Nine. She was brought in with the car wreck. Possible lung punctured and scratches from the glass. Also possible broken ribs. She was already intubated when she was brought in.” A doctor in light blue scrubs explains as he pulls gloves on and starts to do a physical exam. He sees the same doctor hang a bag of clear liquid while another intern sets up an I.V.

“Did she receive any medications in the field?” Harry asks moving swiftly. His hands tap on her stomach searching for stiffness. “Abdomen seems fine. No rigidness.”

An intern with girl’s chart nods her head. “Yes, one dose of penatronal for pain.”

Harry takes in that information and starts mentally checking off a list. With her abdomen not rigid, it means there’s not that much internal bleeding. Not yet at least. In a car crash, there’s always some sort of internal bleeding, especially with possible broken ribs. If she was intubated on the field, she might have a head injury since she can’t breathe on her own.

“Page Head of Neurology and does anyone know if she was in a car seat?” Harry instructs taking out his penlight and waving it in the young girl’s eyes, one pupil is bigger than the other and he mutters a curse. “Set up an O.R. and tell them we’re coming right now. She’s blown a pupil. Someone page Neuro!” Blown pupils mean bleeding in the brain. Breeding in the brain is never good.

Then a high-pitched sound comes from the heart monitor and all eyes shoot to the screen to see the girl’s heartbeat dropping rapidly. “She’s crashing! We need a crash cart!” Another intern yells and a flurry of people rush around the room to bring in the defibrillator.

“Dammit,” Harry mutters, starting compressions on the girl’s chest while a nurse hooks a bag on the intubation tube and rhythmically pumps the bag pushing air into the girl’s lungs. “Charge to two hundred.” He instructs and grabs the paddles while an intern on the other side of the girl’s body continues the chest compressions. Harry waits until a nurse squeezes gel onto the paddles and rubs the two together before placing one on the girl’s chest and the other on her side. “Clear!”

When he sees hands raised, he shocks the girl, the erratic beeping continues and he yells, “Charge to two fifty!”

“Charged!” A nurse informs him a second later.

“Clear!” Once again he waits until everyone is safe and shocks the girl again. This time, the heart monitor shows the heart rate leveling out. “Okay,” he breathes a sigh of relief. “Good work. She’s stable for now. Any word on the O.R.?”

“What do you got?” a man asks from the doorway before anyone can answer Harry. Harry rattles off the girl’s symptoms and adds his findings all while taking in the man who must be the new Head of Neurology.

The newest surgeon to Seattle Grace has a small compact body clothed in the same type of clothes Harry wears. Dark blue scrubs, long white doctor’s coat with _Seattle Grace Hospital_ embroidered on one side and _Tomlinson MD. Head of Neurology_ on the other. Harry’s unable to see the man’s first name. A red stethoscope hangs off of the man’s neck, sharp collarbones peaking out from the v of his shirt leads Harry’s eyes to a strong jawline to sharp blue eyes and hair up in a quiff.

Harry has the sudden urge to go to an on-call room. But then Dr. Tomlinson speaks, “Why isn’t she in an O.R.? A blown pupil means this girl has a brain bleed.”

“I wanted to make sure she was stable before we moved her, she coded.”

“Book an O.R.,” Dr. Tomlinson bites to a nearby intern.

She clutches the patient’s chart in her hands and squeaks out, “Dr. Styles already called for one.”

Dr. Tomlinson levels Harry with a look. “At least he did something right,” he mutters out. “Let’s get moving. You,” He points to the same intern causing her to jump away in surprise. “Scrub in.”

Harry follows the gurney to the elevator down to the O.R. floor. He heads to his locker there, hangs up his coat, pulls his long, curly hair into a low bun at the base of his neck, and pulls the scrub cap, decorated with bananas, over his head and ties it in the back. When he enters the scrub room, Dr. Tomlinson is there, his own scrub cap decorated with soccer balls.

“What are you doing here?” Dr. Tomlinson questions, his voice biting at Harry sounding almost as harsh as how hard the doctor is scrubbing under his fingernails.

“She’s my patient. I need to be here.”

“Your patient? Are you a neurosurgeon?”

Harry rolls his eyes and scoffs. He grabs a mask and ties it over his mouth before grabbing a small plastic item to scrape out any dirt from underneath his nails. Then he takes the prepackaged soap and begins to wash his hands, making sure to scrub all the way up to his elbows. “I’m the Head of Peds. Every minor that comes through these doors are my responsibility, especially when I’m on call. They are automatically my patient.”

“Fine, but don’t get in my way,” Dr. Tomlinson turns off the tap and shakes his hands, his arms bent and heads into the operating room.

“Jackass,” Harry mutters as the young intern walks in. “Dr. Carson right?” he asks without turning around.

“Yes, sir. That’s me.”

“Ever seen an emergency craniotomy?” Harry asks finishing up and shaking water off while keeping his arms bent at the elbow.

“No, sir. Just in medical videos we were shown in school,” Dr. Carson replied while mimicking Harry’s previous actions and grabbing a mask.

Harry smiles behind his own mask. “Well you’re about to.” He backs into the operating room and is handed a sterile towel. He’s quickly assisted with his gown and gloves. By the time he reaches the table, Dr. Tomlinson has already begun.

Dr. Tomlinson works quietly and only speaks to ask for more suction or for a different instrument. Harry stays to the side and watches his movements. He also keeps an eye on the monitors, checking the girl’s blood pressure and heart rate.

When Dr. Carson comes into the room fully scrubbed, Harry goes over to her. “Go beside of Dr. Tomlinson. Don’t get in his way, but observe what he’s doing.”

Dr. Carson nods and does as she’s told once she’s been given her own gown and gloves. When she comes near Dr. Tomlinson, he glances back. “Can I help you?” He asks sharply.

“Oh, Dr. Styles told me to come over here to observe,” She explains.

“If you were going to observe, you’re no help than someone in the gallery,” he says referring to the group of doctors and nurses sitting in the gallery looking down in the operating room. “If you want to be an actual surgical intern and assist me, then you can help suction. You do know how to do that, right?” Dr. Tomlinson replies, quietly but firmly.

Harry has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from retorting. He hates the way some surgeons speak to interns. He has never talked down to an intern, especially one he just met. It’s not a proper teaching environment which is what the intern program needs.

“Yes, sir,” Then Dr. Carson is handed the suction tube from the nurse and the operating room is filled with relative silence once again only the beeping of the heart monitor, whoosh from the anesthesia machine, and suction from the tube filling the air.

“Has anyone gotten in contact with the family?” Dr. Tomlinson asks, his head still bent as he works swiftly.

“No, sir. They’re both in surgery from the car crash,” Dr. Carson speaks up.

Dr. Tomlinson sighs and asks for more suction, continuing to work. Then erratic beeping fills the room and causes Harry to snap his head to the monitors.

“B.P. is dropping!” A nurse exclaims.

“Dammit! Her brain is swelling,” Dr. Tomlinson notices. Harry rushes over and stands behind them. He sees the patient’s open skull and a mass of brain matter starting to protrude from the opening.

“Drill,” Dr. Tomlinson asks for, swapping instruments with the attending nurse.

“What are you going to do with that?” Dr. Carson asks.

“I’m going to try to relieve the pressure before there’s too much damage to the brain.”

“That hasn’t been done before on this kind of patient,” Harry says to himself but Dr. Tomlinson must have heard because he turns his head sharply towards Harry.

“Are you a neurosurgeon?” Before Harry can reply, Dr. Tomlinson continues. “No, you’re not. Don’t question me in my O.R.! I don’t care who you are.”

Harry is left gobsmacked as Dr. Tomlinson tests the power of the drill before applying the pressure to the patient’s skull. Once small holes are drilled, the erratic beeping slows down to a normal pace.

“B.P. is 80 over 120.”

Harry releases a sigh of relief.

“Let’s get a room in the ICU ready. I’m going to patch her up and see what happens over night,” Dr. Tomlinson explains. “We have to wait until the swelling goes down before I can do any repairs.”

Statistics about the girl’s survival through the night flashes through Harry’s mind and his mood dampens. He never likes cases like these. He hates waiting.

“What are you going to do with the piece of her skull?” Dr. Carson asks.

“You're a doctor. You tell me.”

“Um-”

“Um?” Dr. Tomlinson asks turning on her after he waits for the nurses to prepare the patient to be moved. “You should never say ‘um’ in an O.R. no matter if the surgery is over. Not even if the patient has died. You never say ‘um’.”

“Put it on ice,” Dr. Carson squeaks out, her eyes full of fear for this new doctor.

“Do you want the patient to have an open head for the rest of her life?” Dr. Tomlinson shoots at her, accepting the gauze from the nurse and begins covering the various openings.

“No-”

“No, you put the skull piece in her abdomen until it can be replaced. The blood flow there keeps it alive and viable.” When Dr. Tomlinson finishes, he goes over to the girl’s abdomen and waits until the body has been prepped—until a sterile blue sheet is placed over a small region of the girl’s abdomen, open where he needs to cut, and sterile fluid, dirty red in color, is washed over it.

“Ten blade,” Dr. Tomlinson says holding a gloved hand out. When he is handed the instrument, he makes a small incision and he trades the scalpel with the piece of skull and places it in the opening. He’s quick to stitch her back up without Dr. Carson and Harry can’t help but feel a bit perturbed at the man’s actions.

There’s a reason Seattle Grace is a teaching hospital. Attendings and Fellows are suppose to _teach_ interns and residents. Dr. Carson is one of his interns and he knows she is more than capable to do the stitches on the patient. The incision wasn’t any longer than Harry’s pinky finger.

The girl’s surgery is done for now. Dr. Tomlinson walks towards the door and disposes of his gown, gloves, and mask. Harry is quick to follow and finds Dr. Tomlinson receiving the girl’s chart from the nurse at the receptionist’s desk. Harry comes up beside him and leans on the counter with one hand on his hip.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt since this is your first surgery with me, but this is a _teaching_ hospital, Dr. Tomlinson. When there is an opportunity to let the interns learn, we, as Attendings, take it. Otherwise, they’ll never grow as surgeons.”

Dr. Tomlinson only glances up at Harry for a split second. “Dr. Styles, right?” At Harry’s nod, he continues. “If the intern doesn’t know where to properly place a skull piece while the patient’s brain stops swelling, then they haven’t earned the _opportunity_ to stitch the patient up. The intern will be responsible for overseeing the patient through the night though however.”

Harry tenses his jaw and says nothing. He sees Dr. Carson coming out of the O.R. hallway and beckons her over.

“Ah, Dr…” Dr. Tomlinson trails off.

“Carson. Natalie Carson.”

“You will stay with our patient through the night. You will run her labs and any possible scans. Do a neuro exam every hour. You will never leave her side. Page me if her B.P. drops below 70 or if she doesn’t pass a neuro exam,” With that, he gives Dr. Carson the patient’s chart and leaves her and Harry standing there. She looks up at Harry nervously. This is only her third week as an intern. The nerves from working at a real hospital and not working on cadavers in school are still present.

“Page me too,” he says. “Keep me updated on everything and don’t let yourself get run down. Eat something with protein and drink plenty of water.” When she nods and heads towards the ICU floor, Harry turns and asks the receptionist about the state of the girl’s parents.

“The mother is out a stable in Room 3304 and the father is still in surgery. O.R. Three. Dr. Payne and Dr. Woodwork are trying to get him stable.” The nurse informs Harry and he nods at the man in green scrubs. Harry grabs another mask and walks into O.R. Three.

“Harry! Good to see you!” Liam Payne greets, his hands deep in the patient’s chest. “How’s Kelli?”

Oh, Kelli must be the nine-year-old girl, Harry realizes. “Not too good,” Harry replies. “Brain bleed and severe swelling. She’s in the ICU and Carson is watching her overnight,” he explains and he sees Liam grimace. “Were you at the ER when they came in?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you know if she was in a car seat?”

Liam thinks for a second not pausing his actions. “I think the paramedic said she wasn’t.”

Harry curses and nods. “Thanks.”

Just before Harry turns around the leave the O.R., Dr. Woodwork speaks up. “Dr. Styles, we’re still on for our date, yes?”

And Harry swears he sees Dr. Woodwork’s eyes gleam from across the room. “Of course Dr. Woodwork,” he says with a smirk and a wink before he leaves the O.R. and heads to the cafeteria because he’s hungry as fuck. He grabs a Granny Smith apple from the basket of fruit and goes to the nurse’s station on the third floor. “Do you have Mrs. Gibson’s chart?” The nurse nods and he takes the chart skimming the injuries and the prognosis. He hands it back and thanks the nurse before heading to the pediatric floor, the fourth floor.

He takes a peek into some of his patient’s, Connie Davis with a broken femur still wants more chocolate pudding, Tommy Smith with a brain tumor is “bored to death Dr. Styles”, Lisa Rodgers with a severe case of migraines is still “really really sensitive to the bright stick”, his penlight. Then he finds himself in Kelli Gibson’s room where Dr. Carson makes some notes in her chart. “Update me Carson.”

Dr. Carson looks up from the chart and quickly looks back down to call out the basics. “Vitals are good. B.P. is 70 over 80. We just put a catheter in since she’s in a medically induced coma. Her bandages are good. Dr. Tomlinson told me to change them every hour and a half.”

Harry nods, satisfied with her response. “What do we need to look for?”

“We need to look for her pupils blowing or not passing a neuro exam. Make sure her B.P. doesn’t get too low or too high. And change the bandages on her head every hour and a half to avoid infection especially since she is in the Intensive Care Unit of the Pediatric Floor,” Dr. Carson recites, looking up at the ceiling and using the pencil to check off her mental list.

“Good, but also check to make sure her brain doesn’t swell anymore and let Dr. Tomlinson know if it goes down. He’ll need to finish his repairs and stich her back up to further avoid infection,” he replies pleased with her response. She’s come a long way from her first day as an intern. Back then, she would be stuttering and tripping through her response. Three weeks at a hospital will do that to you. “Have you eaten anything?”

She stops from where she’s checking Kelli’s IV and meekly looks up. “No, I wanted to get her results back,” she explains but stops when she sees Harry’s face sternly looking at her. “But I’ll go grab something right now.”

Harry nods. “Good idea.” He moves to let Carson leave the room while taking the chart from her and watching her red ponytail bob to the elevators. As he takes a seat by Kelli, he thinks back to when he was an intern at Seattle Grace. Long nights with little to no sleep. Barely having time to eat. Jumping at every opportunity to see a surgery and especially to help an Attending out with their surgery. He doesn’t miss it at all.

He’s too much of a leader. He was constantly yelled at by his Attending to follow directions. He did humble down in order to help his fellow interns pass their Boards exam. And they helped him study and pass his own exam. Thankfully, they all took their fellowships here at Seattle Grace far away from the hospital where they did they’re internship.

Liam Payne and Niall Horan were some of Harry’s top competition during their internship years, but turned out to be some of his best friends. It also helped that they didn’t want to be in pediatric surgery. Instead, Liam always had the best instincts during disasters and chose trauma as his specialty. Niall was good at everything and chose general surgery. Harry chose pediatrics because he loved kids. And he wanted to do everything he could to save them.

“Daydreaming Dr. Styles?” A voice asks sharply from the doorway. Harry almost drops the chart and looks up. Dr. Tomlinson is standing there with a blank expression on his face and Harry’s memory flashes back to when he was an intern and was caught sleeping on the job by his Attending.

Harry clears his throat. “I sent Carson to get some food. Reminded me of when I lost about ten pounds during my intern year,” he tries to joke with nervous laughter. Something about the newest surgeon makes him uneasy and he can’t tell if it’s a good uneasy feeling or not.

Dr. Tomlinson nods and hesitates before he raps his knuckles against the doorframe and walks down the hall.

Harry stares at the spot Dr. Tomlinson once vacated not quite sure what just happened but he easily forgets about it when Dr. Carson returns with a half empty bottle of water in her hand and breadcrumbs from a sandwich on her scrubs. Harry spends the rest of the next hour watching Kelli and praying that she’ll get better.

“Feel better?” Harry asks, glancing up at her as she checks Kelli’s vitals once more.

“Yeah, thank you, Dr. Styles,” Carson replies meekly. She has always been shy around Harry. He’s heard interns calling him McDreamy. They’ve seem to have taken to this nickname and now even the Chief of Surgery, Dr. Azoff, calls him McDreamy.

“Of course. I’m not the villain here. I’m much more lenient than my Attending when I was an intern. Dr. Cowell would barely let us sleep let alone eat. I was really good at hiding food in my pockets.”

Carson releases a high-pitched laugh that is two octaves too high for Harry’s likening. “That sounds like hell.”

Harry nods handing the chart to Dr. Carson so she could update Kelli’s vitals. “It really was. But he taught me how to hold my bladder for long surgeries which helped tremendously during my first solo surgery.”

Carson nods and the only sounds in the room are the scratching of the pencil on the chart and the whirl of the machines hooked up to Kelli. Harry’s pager goes off, the beeping catching his attention. He looks down and sees that Liam was paging him to go down to the lounge. He silences the beeping and heads out of the room, knowing that Carson would stay with Kelli. She’s one of the better interns from her year.

He walks down the stairs to the Attendings lounge and finds Dr. Payne and the Chief of Surgery sitting at the table, grim looks on their faces.

“What’s going on?” Harry asks, nervously stepping in the room.

Liam sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “Kelli’s father didn’t make it off the table and we just found out that Kelli’s wasn’t in a car seat.”

“You have to call Child Protective Services,” Harry comes to the realization before they could tell him.

Dr. Azoff sighs and nods his head. “Yes, they’ve already been called. If Kelli wakes up, she will go with them until there can be a proper family that can take her is found. Hopefully she has other family members that could take her, but there will have to be background checks on them I’m sure. A child must be in a car seat until they reach about-”

“Eleven,” Harry finishes for him, the information coming to the forefront of his brain. These sort of situations don’t arise that often, but when they do, it’s always memorable and never for the right reasons. “Yeah, and Kelli’s nine. Shit.”

Liam gets up and pats him on his shoulder. “I know you hate when this happen. But…”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I know. Let’s just hope that she actually gets better before we think of sending her off with someone. Her brain is swelling and while her vitals are good, she’s still in critical care. I want to keep her there until she can be taken off the ventilator.”

Dr. Azoff nods, taking a sip of coffee. “Good. Who do you have watching her?”

“Carson.”

The Chief nods again, satisfied with Harry’s answer. “She’s good. Nervous as hell. But good. Shows promise.”

Harry chuckles at the Chief’s blunt and concise way to describe the intern. “I agree with you, sir.”

The three doctors continue to talk—mainly—about baseball. It’s not too often that they have time to sit around and talk about things other than work. Especially since Seattle Grace has been dubbed a Level One for Traumas. This means, most trauma cases in Seattle go to Seattle Grace since they have the proper equipment and number of doctors with proper training to take care of traumas patients.

“What do you think of Dr. Tomlinson?” Dr. Azoff asks suddenly looking intently at Harry. “I know you’ve already seen him in action.”

“I’m not sure,” Harry answers honestly. “I’ve only seen him work once and just from that surgery, I think he isn’t use to how we work here.”

“You mean he’s not as big of a team player as you are Dr. Styles,” The Chief teases, taking a sip of his coffee.

Liam chuckles. “I don’t think anyone can rival Harry’s love of teamwork.” The trauma doctor fiddles with his penlight, making it spin on the table in front of them.

Harry shrugs leaning back in the chair. “The kids are big fans of teamwork. It’s the best way for me to convince the ones that are nervous to let the nurses and interns check their vitals and administer medicine. If I don’t, they’ll latch onto me and only trust me. Or they cling to their parents if I’m not there. I can’t have twenty to thirty kids fully depending on me to check vitals.”

“I will agree with you on that,” Dr. Azoff nods looking down at his pager as it beeps. “Ahh, shit.” He stands and deposits his coffee cup in the sink. “Kelli’s mother is awake and is being difficult.”

Harry pushes away from the table. “I’ll go with you so I can update her on her daughter.”

The Chief nods in agreement and the two doctors leave the lounge. When they reach Kelli’s mothers room, they see her fighting with the intern. Two nurses are trying to hold her back, but it looks as if she has a firm grip on the intern’s arm.

“Where is my daughter you bastard!” The woman screams and Harry and Dr. Azoff run into the room wanting to stop the crass yelling quickly.

“Mrs. Gibson! Mrs. Gibson!” Dr. Azoff yells out slowly to get her attention.

The woman stops pulling against the nurses’ hold but does not release the intern’s—Jacob Prescott—arm. “Where is my daughter Kelli? She was in the car with me and my husband,” she asks, her voice firm.

Harry steps up and the woman snaps her head towards him. “Hi, Mrs. Gibson. My name is Dr. Styles and I’m the Head of Pediatrics here and I saw to your daughter’s care. Will you let go of Dr. Prescott so I can talk to you about Kelli?”

She stares at him for a long minute, her stare piercing him in his place and Harry holds his breath. He hopes that she will cooperate so they won’t have to subdue her or cuff her to the bed. Then she releases Prescott’s arm and the intern slowly steps away from the woman.

Harry minutely nods at the two nurses restraining her and they step away too but they don’t leave the room. They don’t know if Mrs. Gibson will lash out again. “Okay, thank you,” he says once things have calmed down for now. “Well, Kelli came in here with a head trauma and our Head of Neurology tried to fix it but her brain started swelling. But, we are monitoring her very closely. One of my interns will be by her side for the next twenty-four hours and if there is any sort of change, good or bad, I will be notified immediately and we will go back in the O.R. She does have a couple bruised ribs that are concerning for me because…” Harry glances to the chief because he hates this part.

“Because why?” Mrs. Gibson asks, frantically glancing between Harry and Dr. Azoff. “Why?!” she shouts when Harry didn’t answer.

“Because those injuries suggest to us that Kelli wasn’t in a car seat at the time. Ma’am your daughter is nine years old and she needs to be in a car seat for her safety. Her injuries would be much less severe if she had been.” Dr. Azoff explains.

“But she was!” Mrs. Gibson protests. “She was! You’re lying to me!”

The two nurses step forward but don’t touch Mrs. Gibson yet. “We know that she wasn’t,” Harry says gently. “And since she wasn’t, we had to call Child Protective Services just as a precaution.”

“No, no that can’t be! You can’t do this! You can’t do this to me!” She cries out. The two nurses step forward and quickly with practiced hands, restrain Mrs. Gibson in the cuffs that are attached to the bed.

This is why Harry hates this part of his job. Since he’s the Head of Pediatrics, he handles cases like this every now and then. They never get easier. Thankfully, they don’t happen too often, but the reaction from the parents are typically the same.

“What about Rod? My husband. What about him?” She asks next and Harry glances at the Chief.

Dr. Azoff clears his throat and says with a gentle tone, “Your husband had extensive injuries to his back and chest. We did everything that we could to save him.”

Mrs. Gibson starts to sob, her body racking with it as she begins to become agitated.

“We’re very sorry Mrs. Gibson,” Harry says sincerely. He does feel for this woman. He can’t imagine losing his husband and practically losing his daughter in the same day. But then, he knows that children have to be properly restrained in the car to avoid injuries like the ones Kelli sustained.

When Mrs. Gibson starts to fight harder against the restraints, Dr. Azoff goes over to one of the nurses and says, “Go get a sedative for her.”

Harry leaves before the nurse injects the emotional woman.

He’s just getting to the cafeteria to grab a quick bite to eat when he gets a page from Carson. ‘911 Kelli.’

He curses and runs out of the room and to the stairs, knowing the elevator will take too long. He shouts at people to get out of his way as he skips several steps to reach the ICU portion of the Peds floor.

“What happened?” He demands when he reaches the room, instantly grabbing a pair of latex gloves.

Carson is doing chest compressions as the heart rate monitor beeps. “Her B.P. dropped suddenly. She was doing fine until then. Vitals were good. Heart rate was steady.”

Nurses rush in with a crash cart and Harry grabs the paddles, going through the motions.

“Charge to two hundred!”

“Charged,” he’s informed.

“Clear!” He shocks the girl when everyone has raised their hands and her pulse comes back.

“What in the world is happening?” A voice barks out from the doorway.

Harry looks up to see Dr. Tomlinson pulling gloves on with a stern face. He looks absolutely pissed off and all of his anger seems to be towards Carson.

Dr. Carson shrinks back under Dr. Tomlinson’s gaze. “Her blood pressure dropped suddenly.”

“Why wasn’t I paged?” Dr. Tomlinson demands, not letting the intern finish her explanation. “Dr. Styles is here so you clearly had time to page him. Why not me?”

“I’m her Attending,” Harry defends feeling fed up with how Dr. Tomlinson is treating his intern. “Kelli is my patient. She’s yours when it concerns her brain. But I am her main doctor. Dr. Carson is my intern. Paging me is her priority.”

“I told Carson to page me if there were any complications or changes in Kelli. Do you not consider this a complication?” Louis pushes past Harry and checks Kelli’s head.

He gingerly pulls back her bandages while also continuing to yell at Carson and Harry. His actions the opposite of his words. Like a calm storm. “I realize I’m new to the hospital and I haven’t done anything to win you lot over, but I am still a doctor—a surgeon and I deserve respect.”

“Then why don’t you stop yelling at us and do your job,” Harry bites back and grabs the chart from Carson, taking over writing down what just happened to their patient.

The silence in the room is deafening and Harry can spy Carson wringing her hands—a sign that she’s stressed out. He doesn’t say anything to her, too heated from his and Dr. Tomlinson’s shouting match. He’s almost afraid that others on the floor heard and that they will tell the Chief. He does not need that in his life right now.

“She’s fine for now,” Dr. Tomlinson concludes, replacing her bandages with fresh ones and taking off his gloves. “In the future,” he says as he’s walking out of the room. “Page me before the patient dies.”

Harry rolls his eyes and scoffs and he jots down Kelli’s current condition in her chart and hands it back to Carson. She offers him an apologetic smile and sits back down in the chair next to Kelli’s bed. “I’m sorry about that Dr. Styles. I’ll remember to page him. I should have known better. He’s an Attending.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head and raises a hand to stop her. “This wasn’t your fault. He’s just a hot-headed ass who doesn’t like being on the bottom.” He walks out of the room then, going to check on other patients when he sees Dr. Tomlinson leaning against the nurse’s desk just outside of Kelli’s room looking over another patient’s chart.

“Actually, Dr. Styles,” the man speaks up, not looking up from the chart. “I prefer to be on the bottom. Being on the top isn’t too bad either. I guess you could say I’m versatile. What are you?”

Harry feels his cheeks burn at the implication and coughs to cover up the words that got caught in his throat. He scurries over to a different room, really anywhere would be better than near Dr. Tomlinson at the moment. He heads over to Lisa Rodgers’ room to see if her migraines were getting any better.

When he walks in the room, the girl is asleep with her mother reading a book in the chair next to her. The mother looks up when Harry enters the room and smiles up at him.

“This is the first time she’s been able to sleep for more than a few hours in a couple weeks,” she whispers.

“How long has she been asleep?” He questions, opening up her chart.

The mother thinks about it, closing her book. “About four hours.”

Harry nods and enters that into the system. “I’m afraid that I need to wake her up.”

“Why?”

He places the chart on the rolling cart in front of Lisa. “I need to see if her migraines are any worse than when we gave her the medicine. Obviously I can tell that it is working since she is able to sleep, but I would rather prescribe her something less powerful if it’s possible. That way, you can take her home and give her medication by mouth rather than being stuck here with an I.V. in her arm,” he explains, seeing the worry and anger leave the mother’s face.

She slowly nods and he reaches over to Lisa and gently shakes her shoulder. “Miss. Lisa, can you wake up for me?” he quietly asks.

Lisa stirs and mumbles out something unintelligible before opening her eyes. “Dr. Harry?” she asks groggily.

“Hi, Miss Lisa. Can you answer some questions for me? Then you can go back to sleep, okay?” He makes sure he smiles softly at her, hating to wake her up if she’s still in pain.

She nods and clutches her stuffed unicorn closer to her—Fredrick the Ferocious Unicorn, he was told when Lisa’s mother brought it in the other day.

“Okay, can you tell me how bad your pain is now on a scale from 1-10? Just like earlier.”

Lisa scrunches her face up and says, “About a four.”

“Okay,” Harry nods. “That’s really good. What hurts?”

“My eyes.”

“Your eyes, the lights still hurt?” Harry clarifies.

Lisa nods and points towards his coat pocket. “You don’t have to wave that light stick again do you?”

Harry and Lisa’s mother laughs. “No, I won’t have to do that. You can go back to sleep now, okay? Thank you for answering my questions.”

Lisa just nods and then curls up with Fredrick again. Harry leans up and meets Lisa’s mother’s eyes. “Can she go home soon?” she asks softly.

“Yes,” Harry says pulling out a pencil and writing down the new info in her chart. “I want to keep her here for one more day, just to slowly wean her off of the medication she’s on right now. I’ll see how she is twenty-four hours from now and then prescribe her a lower dosage of what we have her on right now. If everything goes as planned, she can leave this time tomorrow.”

Relief flashes over Lisa’s mother’s face and she walks around the bed to hug him. “Thank you so much, Dr. Styles.”

Harry gently pulls away, never feeling too comfortable when parents hug him. “It’s no problem at all.”

The rest of Harry’s day has him checking up on patients and dealing with sometimes controlling or hesitant parents. He’s constantly bombarded with questions and is even accused of being a neglectful doctor which isn’t the first time that he’s been called that. After being on his feet for close to around seven hours, he’s able to slip away to an on-call room. His interns know not to bother him unless it’s absolutely necessary. He collapses on the bunk bed and is asleep the second his head hits the pillow.

He’s jolted awake seemingly five minutes later by a firm hand on his shoulder. “Wha-”

“Get up Styles. You’re needed in the O.R.,” Dr. Tomlinson says in a rush. His face firm and worried.

Harry immediately gets up and rushes with Dr. Tomlinson to the elevator. “What do you we know?” He asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glances down at his watch and sees that he’s been asleep for only an hour.

“Eleven year old boy. Ryan Thomas, I think. He fell out of his treehouse, the wood was rotten, but he went up anyway. Apparently his parents tried to get him before he went up but, obviously, didn’t make it in time. He was having seizures when he came in which isn’t normal for him. He also landed on something hard and broken a couple ribs. You’re needed to fix his abdomen. There might be some major internal bleeding. I’ve heard you’re the best with that. I was told to come get you while the interns get him ready,” Dr. Tomlinson explains.

Harry nods and mentally prepares himself. He pulls out his scrub cap and pulls back his hair. The two surgeons get ready to enter in the operating room. Harry looks through the glass separating the scrub room from the operating room to watch as the technicians and nurses hurry around the room, setting up trays, and getting operating equipment to their places. It was all like a dance. A potentially deadly dance, but a dance nonetheless. And Harry was an excellent dancer. Once properly scrubbed, the two surgeons enter in the room and are assisted with their gowns and headlamps. Jacob Prescott is waiting by the head of Ryan, obviously going to assist Dr. Tomlinson. One of the nurses, Harry’s particular favorite—Olivia Jenson—would being helping him.

“Nice to see you again, Olivia,” Harry greets as he makes his way to left side of Ryan. “You’re looking particularly lovely in your green scrubs.

Olivia lets out an amused laugh. “You say that every time you see me.”

“And it’s always true! Always a pleasure to work with you,” Harry winks before he looks over to Dr. Tomlinson to see if he was ready to begin. The other surgeon seems to be glaring at him over his mask, but Harry didn’t know if that was his resting face. Resting bitch face is definitely a thing. Dr. Niall Horan for instance has it but he was the most cheerful person Harry’s ever met.

“Ready?” Dr. Tomlinson asks, a little bit of a bite in his tone.

Harry nods, reaches out his hand and says, “Ten blade.” And they begin.

In the back of his head, he can hear the buzz from the drill Dr. Tomlinson is using, but Harry is focused on the mess of a torso that Ryan has. Before Harry cuts, he takes into account the amount of bruising near the ribcage. The boy has definitely broken a rib. “Page Parrington 911.”

Carli Parrington is the best orthopedic surgeon that Harry has ever worked with. She’s quick, ruthless, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. She also has an incredibly fashion sense that Harry would kill for. On the rare occasion that the surgeons have a day off, she and Harry will go to the mall and shop for hours. They also make a game out of who can go the longest without using the bathroom. Harry’s proud to say that he wins every time.

“I’m going to need something to stabilize this rib while Dr. Parrington gets here.” Harry calls out, his eyes never leaving the patient’s body. “And more lap pads!” He has got to get this bleeding under control or else the patient will die.

Dr. Parrington enters the operating room in a flurry. “Talk to me,” she instructs Harry as she is gowned, gloved, and given and headlight.

“Massive bleeders around the torso. Rib punctured something. Left side,” he informs her while he grabs the lap pads from Olivia to soak up the blood.

Dr. Parrington goes to work looking for the broken rib. “Where’s the x-ray?” She looks up to the lighted boards and sees nothing. Usually the x-rays and various scans are positioned in sight in order for the surgeons to see exactly what is wrong.

“There wasn’t any time to take them. He came straight from the ambulance,” a nurse calls out which causes Dr. Parrington to curse loudly.

“I need more suction,” Harry tells Olivia, trying desperately to find the source of all the bleeding. He is unable to see anything but bright red blood, not even any of Ryan’s organs which is slightly terrifying to Harry. But he’s been in this position before, and more times than none, he’s been able to find the bleeder and save the boy’s life.

“More suction, dammit!” Harry calls out, desperate to find the source of the bleeding. He is not going to lose this little boy just because he can’t find a damn bleeder. No way. More lap pads are handed to him and he furiously uses them.

His concentration is broken when he hears the heart monitor beeping faster and faster. “He’s in cardiac arrest. His body can’t handle all of this stress,” Dr. Tomlinson speaks up for the first time during the surgery. “He’s brain starting to swell too.”

Harry curses and exchanges a look with Dr. Parrington. “He’s losing too much blood. I need bags of O neg immediately!” He demands from over his shoulder and he sees a nurse run out of the room. He knows that the nurse won’t be able to get to the blood bank and back in time. He has to find this bleeder now and fast. He moves his hand around, searching for a tear in one of the organs.

“B.P. is dropping!” a nurse calls out and Harry can hear the beeping, signaling that the patient is losing too much blood.

Harry feels something rough against his glove covered finger and he instantly knows that it’s a punctured organ. He places his finger over it and applies pressure. “Found the bleeder,” he informs everyone and just barely heaves a sigh of relief. He can’t completely just yet, he still needs to replenish the blood this boy just lost. “How’s finding the source of the seizures going?” He asks Dr. Tomlinson.

“I’ve eliminated the northern hemisphere,” the neurosurgeon replies calmly as he moves the endoscopic tools with practiced hands. He looks over to the screen where the camera that Prescott is holding steadily. “Just need to move south.” Dr. Tomlinson’s concentration never wavers as he moves the tools around.

“More suction. Let’s patch Ryan up, shall we?” Harry sighs and is handed more lap pads. He keeps his hand that’s over the puncture as still as possible. But when the blood doesn’t seem to dissipate, Harry’s own heart rate speeds up. “What the hell?”

“B.P. is dropping!”

“Fucking hell,” Harry mutters and he hears a similar sentiment from Dr. Parrington.

She flits her head over the ribcage. “The rib has broken off.” She informs him. “I don’t know where it is.”

“Wherever it is, it’s causing more bleeding. Fuck,” Harry says. Suddenly, the heart monitor gives out a long loud beep and Harry feels ice hit his veins. “Push, one of epi!”

He feels the room’s energy intensify as they scramble. He is not losing this child because he wasn’t able to find the bleeders. “Where is that damn blood?!” He hollers out in frustration. “Give me sutures. I need to fix the bleeder we’ve found so we can look for the other.” He’s quick to patch the hole up and then he’s repeating the same method as before, trying to find the new source of the bleeding.

But Ryan’s heart beat does not come back and Harry knows. He knows that pushing another epi will not help. If he starts chest compressions without finding and patching the bleeders will be fruitless.

He steps back, his gloves bright red, and looks up at Dr. Parrington. She’s come to the same conclusion as he has. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry can see Dr. Tomlinson sigh and looks over to the clock. “Time of death,” he says, “18:40.”

Harry angrily takes his gloves and gown off, throwing them in the hazardous waste basket near the door, and storms out. He doesn’t make eye contact with the nurses or doctors that he passes, but heads straight to the men’s bathroom. He collapses on the floor, his back to the wall and let’s himself break down. Tears fall down his cheeks as his body racks with sobs. His hands come up to brutally wipe them away.

He hasn’t reacted like this to a patient’s death since his first lost on his watch during his first year as an Attending. Samantha Owen. She was a four year old girl and at first the doctors thought she had an extreme case of asthma and that her medication wasn’t working. But she was actually having a heart attack and needed immediate surgery. Her coronary artery was attached to her pulmonary artery rather than her aorta. Harry was in surgery for about ten hours, fighting for her life when she suffered another heart attack, one more severe than her previous one and coded soon after. Niall had to walk him up to the room where the healthy new born babies are kept until the mothers are well enough to go home. It didn’t help with his crying, but it put things in perspective for him. It was his job to protect these tiny humans and he shouldn’t allow himself to cry while he’s working. Not when there are other tiny humans to take care of.

Harry lifts his head when he hears a loud flush. He shrinks back when Dr. Tomlinson walks from the urinals to the sinks. He does not want to hear some rude remark about his behavior from this stuck-up doctor. The neurosurgeon keeps his face straight, not looking over at where Harry is crying. Harry can hear hiccups escaping his lips and he tries to take deep breaths to calm himself down, he doesn’t want to cause a scene.

“A spoonful of peanut butter will help with the hiccups,” Dr. Tomlinson mentions as he leaves.

Harry looks up in time to faintly see worry on the neurosurgeon’s face before he walks out of the bathroom. He stays where he’s sitting, his body jerking with every hiccup. Once his body stops wracking with each hiccup. He peels himself off the floor and goes over to the sink. He wets a paper towel and presses the cool towel under his eyes, trying to make the swelling go down. He straightens out his scrubs and pulls his hair out of his bun to redo it. The strands feel greasy and he makes a mental note to wash his hair tonight. He washes his hands and takes a deep breath before leaving the bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! This chapter is going up later than I had originally wanted because I've been super busy all through June and July. I haven't had that much time to write as I wished. But I hope you all enjoy this! 
> 
> Please note that this chapter hasn't been beta'd yet so if you see a mistake it will be fixed soon!

Harry checks his pager and thankfully doesn’t see any messages as he leaves the bathroom. He’s grateful that he didn’t miss a ‘911’ page while he was having his breakdown. He walks up to the Attendings lounge and sees Dr. Woodwork pulling his jacket on. The man turns his head when Harry walks in and smiles at him.

“Dr. Styles,” Dr. Woodwork greets.

“Dr. Woodwork,” Harry grins. “Ready for our date?” He steps over to his assigned cubby and takes his doctor’s coat off and hangs it up. He’s thankful that his shift has ended for now; although, he is still on-call and could come back in if there was an emergency. He quickly steps out of his scrubs and dresses in his regular clothes. Black jeans, white t-shirt, and the ever essential rain jacket for the constant Seattle rainstorms. He’s sitting down to switch out his tennis shoes for his brown boots when Dr. Tomlinson steps in.

Harry tries to ignore the man and looks up to Dr. Woodwork standing beside him. “I’ll meet you at your place after I shower?” he offers. 

“Or I can go with you to your place and we can get out date started there?” the cardio surgeon suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows and raking his eyes up and down Harry’s figure as he stands up.

Harry takes a step forward and connects their lips for just a moment, his hand coming up to rest on Woodwork’s waist. He pulls back and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dr. Tomlinson grimace. Not wanting to fight with the man any longer that day, he laces his and Dr. Woodwork hands together and tugs him towards the door. “Deal.” 

 

Today is a rare one for a pediatric surgeon. It’s a day off and Harry, for once, is not on call. The only problem, he doesn’t really know what to do today. Dr. Woodwork’s--Keith’s--day off was last week and he’s working for the next ten hours. Niall and Liam have the day off but they both went home to visit their families in Northern California for the day. Unfortunately, Harry’s family lives in Southern California which would be a least a three day visit. 

So, Harry decides to spend time in his garden. Well, his pitiful garden that is. Since Seattle rains nine days out of ten, he had to build a greenhouse to keep his plants from drowning in all the water the city gets and installed a couple heat lamps to make up for the lack of natural sunlight.

“Okay, little veggies,” Harry greets as he walks in the small greenhouse in his backyard. “How are you all today?” 

He looks down at his pot of tomatoes and grimaces when he sees that most of the buds have turned brown. Although, there were some tomatoes that were viable. He breaks off the ripe tomatoes and places them in his basket and takes off the ones that were dead. He moves onto the carrots and does the same. All the while, he thinks of what to cook that day with the vegetables and herbs he has in the greenhouse. He supposes he could fix another chicken dish since chicken is easy to cook. Rosemary and chicken pair well together. A salad too would probably be better than making mac and cheese.

He might make the mac and cheese anyway. He’s had a long week and he deserves to eat carbs and dairy. He grabs a couple stems of rosemary and waters the rest of the plants before he heads back inside the house.

Harry puts the rosemary in a jar near the sink so he won’t forget it and the tomatoes in the fridge. As he does so, he notices that he somehow only has, one egg, an expired carton of milk, and leftover Chinese food from the night before. He’s half tempted to say ‘screw it’ about fixing chicken and vegetables and make a meal out of half a carton of Chinese and a small scrambled egg with tomatoes, but he can hear his mother telling him that he needs to eat better. So, he trudges up the stairs and pulls on tennis shoes. 

When he walks in, the grocery store is packed and he’s almost run over by an elderly woman using her shopping cart as a way to ensure that she gets to the bread aisle before he can. He’s actually impressed with her speediness. To his left are a group of kids screaming at their mother as they leave, their shopping cart is filled to the brim with colorful bags and bottles. He can practically see a headache about to consume the mother.

Harry grabs a basket from a stack near the door and walks over to the meat section to select chicken breasts for that night. Since there’s only him to cook for—Keith told him that he would be too busy to sneak away from the hospital for an hour or two to eat with him—he almost buys the smaller pack but Harry buys the family pack of chicken anyway. He can always freeze whatever he doesn’t eat for later that week.

Choosing vegetables for a salad, bleh, is harder since the granny that attempted murder via shopping cart is blocking the section that he needs to get to with her cart. He holds his tongue and moves onto the next portion of the veggie section to pick up spinach and lettuce.

He cannot stand grocery shopping during the middle of the day, he much rather go in the dead of night when there are fewer people around. That way he can spend some time in the silence and take his time picking out what he wants to eat. But since he has to go to work the next day, he knows that he needs to shop now rather than waiting until two in the morning especially since he has next to nothing to eat at his house. 

He then makes his way to the dairy aisle for milk and yogurt for breakfast and then to the cereal aisle because he’s craving something sugary and unhealthy. Lucky Charms are always a good option. He bends down and has to reach to the back of the shelf for the last family sized box. When he stands back up, he loses his balance for a quick second and ends up stumbling into the shopper behind him.

He turns around to apologizes—hoping that it’s not the little old lady—and sees Dr. Tomlinson clutching two boxes of cereal, Frosties and Coco Puff, and giving him a stern look.

“Are you always this clumsy?” Dr. Tomlinson questions.

Harry takes in the maroon beanie and zip-up jacket adorning Dr. Tomlinson’s upper half and almost melts at the sight of the man dressed down. “Only on the off days,” he tries to joke.

Dr. Tomlinson purses his lips and nods his head slowly. Harry thinks he’s trying to hold back a smile. “I’ll just be on my way then. See you at the hospital.”

Before Harry can respond, the neurosurgeon is halfway down the aisle. He stares at the spot the man vacated until he hears the squeaky wheels of a shopping cart headed his way. He shakes off the odd encounter and finishes his shopping. By the time he exits the grocery store, the sky has opened up and he mentally beats himself up for not bringing a rain jacket with him. He sprints to his car and throws all of his food in the back before climbing into the driver’s seat.

Thankfully, he doesn’t see any car crashes on the way home which is typical in this type of weather. He prays that people will drive carefully or not drive at all so that the emergency room won’t be packed. He hopes that Keith is able to slip away for at least a quick bite and fuck. Harry texts the cardio surgeon his hope and unloads the groceries in their respective places while he waits for a response. 

He pulls out some greek yogurt and fresh fruit for a snack and settles on top of the kitchen island. Harry didn’t want to start cooking dinner for one if Keith could come. (Hopefully in more than one way.) Harry mentally high fives himself for that pun and sends it to Keith. Harry’s message goes unanswered for about two hours and he thinks nothing of it. He knows that Keith is busy saving lives and is probably too busy to answer his phone for now. He goes ahead and preps one of the chicken breasts and uses some of the rosemary from his greenhouse. Dinner is uneventful, he turns on his DVR and plays the latest episode of Chopped. He loves the odd ingredients the chefs are given and he lives for Alex Guarnaschelli’s resting bitch face. 

He piles his dishes in the dishwater, no energy to do anything else but run a hot bath and go to bed. He has to be at the hospital at six the next morning and it’s best if he tries to get a decent amount of sleep. His hot bath is complete with a honey and lavender bath bomb from Lush get got on one of his other off days. He crawls into bed about an hour later feeling boneless and warm. 

 

Five the next morning, his alarm screeches from his nightstand and interrupts his deep sleep. Harry groans as he sits up and rubs at his eyes. 

“Fuck,” he grumbles as looks over at the window and sees a wall of water pouring out of the darkened sky. 

He goes downstairs and while the coffee is brewing, he scrambles eggs and puts bread in the toaster. Soon, he’s eating his breakfast out of the pan and pouring himself a large cup of coffee with a splash of salted caramel creamer. He’s dressed and out the door in the next twenty minutes and pulling in the hospital parking lot in the next ten minutes. Unfortunately, the rain hasn’t lightened up and he has to sprint into the building clutching his to-go coffee mug to his chest. 

He walks in, shaking the rain off his jacket, and heads towards the elevators. He sees families walking in the building, many with worried looks on their face. Harry also spies a familiar face as the parent of one of his patients. He’s eager to get in his doctor’s coat and check on all of the tiny people, especially Connie Davis with the broken femur. He received a text last night from Dr. Alyssa Travers, the secondary pediatrics surgeon, that Connie was having intense pains at the surgical site. While it wasn’t worthy of a ‘911’ message, he still is worried. 

When he enters the Attending’s lounge, Keith and Dr. Tomlinson are standing in silence as the former redresses in regular clothing and the latter is swinging his stethoscope over his neck in preparation for rounds.

Harry goes straight towards Keith, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. The man jolts in his hold out of surprise and huffs out a laugh. He pulls out of the hug and turns around to face Harry. “Don’t you have patients to see Dr. Styles?” he asks.

Harry takes a step back and furrows his brow. “Yeah, but the interns are doing rounds right now. We haven’t seen each other in a couple days.”

Keith scoffs and pulls his jacket on and reaches into his pocket to retrieve his keys. “Don’t be so co-dependent Harry.” He leaves Harry standing by the lockers, his eyebrows scrunched together. But Keith was right. He should be able to go a couple days without freaking out. Harry has his patients to worry about. 

However, Dr. Tomlinson is giving him the side-eye and Harry blushes in embarrassment at the newest surgeon knowing how clingy he’s acting. Harry coughs and turns away to go check on Connie.

He joins Carson as she leaves one patient’s room and heads into another. He must have been silent as he followed her into Connie’s room since Carson jumps slightly when she spies him out of the corner of her eye. “Oh! Dr. Styles, I didn’t know you were in today,” Carson looks towards Connie who is looking at the two doctors with an amused look on her face. “I was just getting ready to check Connie’s vitals.”

Harry smiles and waves a hand forward. “Go ahead, Carson. Tell me what you find and what each means.”

Carson places the chart on the bedside cart and moves towards Connie. “How are you feeling today, Miss. Connie?” she asks as she reaches for the blood pressure cuff in the basket on the back of the wall.

Connie purses her lips forward and gestures towards her leg. “My leg still hurts real bad. And I can’t sleep because of it.”

Harry takes notice of dark circles under the dark skin of the girl and reaches for the chart to see what Dr. Travers prescribed for the pain. 

“Can I see your arm, please?” Carson asks nicely, pointing to the arm without the I.V. She goes through the steps of taking Connie’s blood pressure and jots down the reading in the chart. She continues with her exam, listening to Connie’s heart, checking where the I.V.s were placed for infection or irritation, and ends by helping the young girl to the bathroom. Connie still hasn’t learned how to use crutches properly. 

By the end, Harry is impressed with Carson’s bedside manners, especially with a little girl complaining of pain. When they walk out of Connie’s room and towards Kelli Gibson’s room, the girl from the car crash, they hear yelling and both doctors quicken their pace. The enter the room to see a woman in a gray suit standing between the girl still in a coma and her mother. 

“You can’t keep me from my daughter! I did nothing wrong!” The mother yells, straining under the arms of the security officers. 

The woman in the gray suit sighed and pushed a paper towards her. “Mrs. Gibson, Child Protective Services is going to review your case to see if you are fit to take care of Kelli. During this time, you may not visit Kelli. We will allow the doctors to call you with updates on your daughter’s condition.” 

“This is bullshit!” The mother cries out, tears starting to fall from her eyes.

Harry moves to stand beside of agitated mother. “Mrs. Gibson, please. We need to move this negativity away from Kelli. She may be able to hear us even though she is in a coma,” Harry explains calmly. “I promise that either myself or Dr. Travers will call you to give you updates on Kelli’s progress, but you need to leave her room on your own terms or we will have to make you leave. Don’t make this harder than it needs to.” 

The mother stops fighting and slumps over hiccupping. “Can I at least say goodbye to her?” She looks towards the agent and the woman nods her head and steps aside. The security guards release the mother and she walks shakily towards Kelli. Harry looks away from the mother-daughter moment as does the other occupants in the room. When the mother is done, she walks out of the room, the security guards following her closely.

Harry’s heart goes out to the mother and he walks back to Kelli. While her vitals are normal, her brain activity isn’t showing abnormalities. He looks back at the notes that have been written down in her chart and sees that the swelling in her brain has gone down significantly. 

“Kelli is going back into surgery tomorrow night if her vitals stay level,” Harry hears from behind him and he turns around to see Dr. Tomlinson stepping into the room.

“Would I be joining you in that operation?” Harry wonders aloud, trying not to add any bite into his voice.

“If you believe that it’s necessary then yes, you may.”

Harry nods and hands the neurosurgeon Kelli’s chart. “Have Carson assist you,” out of the corner of his eye he sees Carson straighten up and smile towards the new doctor encouragingly. “She’s been with Kelli all this time.”

Dr. Tomlinson gives Carson a quick glance. “How long have you been awake?”

“About thirty hours,” she replies quickly. 

“Take a nap an hour before pre-op. I don’t need a tired intern in my operating room,” Dr. Tomlinson instructs handing Carson Kelli’s chart. “And memorize everything in this chart.”

Carson nods her head and gets back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?? See you next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone has had an amazing Christmas or is having an amazing Hannukah or Kwanza or whatever is it you celebrate! My life has gotten busier with family and with school. Updates will be sporadic from now on since my main focus will be making sure I will graduate this upcoming May! 
> 
> I would love it of you would leave a comment telling me how to liked this chapter. Thank you!

Harry goes to the Attendings lounge and grabs his scrub cap the next night. He doesn’t think it’ll be necessary for him to physically help Dr. Tomlinson with Kelli’s surgery, but he’ll make damn sure that he’s in that room. He owes it to Kelli’s mother to oversee everything that happens to her daughter. He reaches the elevator to take him down to the surgical floor the same time as Dr. Tomlinson. 

“How much do you trust Dr. Carson?” The neurologist asks him as they step into the elevator. 

“She’s been here for only a little over a month but she has good instincts. Steady hands. I’m very impressed with her so far.”

“So you don’t think what I’m asking of her is too much?”

Harry turns to face him. “What do you mean?”

Dr. Tomlinson sighs and moves his scrub cap up to scratch his forehead. “I mean, is it too much to ask Carson to memorize everything in Kelli’s chart and to expect her to perform brain surgery when she’s been awake for almost two days.”

“Definitely not,” Harry offers the man an encouraging smile. “My first year as an intern was complete hell. Dr. Cowell expected all of his interns to stay awake for about three days, barely gave us time to nap or eat, and we juggled anywhere from two to ten patients at a time. We called him a dictator because he was so strict and acted like a ran the entire hospital.”

“Dr. Cowell was your Attending?”

“Yeah, I heard he retired from surgery a few years back to go into research.”

“I see,” Dr. Tomlinson says and quickly walks out of the elevator when the doors open. Harry jogs to keep up with him.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll be down in the operating room with you but I’ll let Carson assist you. She could pick neurology as her specialty.”

Dr. Tomlinson only nods seemingly ignoring the other doctor and goes into the scrub room while Harry, since he won’t be interacting with Kelli during the procedure, grabs a surgical mask and walks into the room. Carson is already there along with Kelli. 

“How are you feeling Carson?” Harry asks, going to stand behind her as a nurse helps her into a surgical gown and gloves.

“I’m so excited for this! I can’t believe that I’m going to see inside a girl’s brain! And I’ll be able to help Dr. Tomlinson make her better! I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this since med school. This is exactly why I wanted to become a surgeon. So I could help people. Thank you so much for this opportunity, Dr. Styles,” She exclaims.

“How about you re-direct that excitement into some calmness,” Dr. Tomlinson says as he enters the operating room. “You’re going to need steady hands for this procedure which I trust that you have read up on. If not, you could potentially hurt this patient. Is that too hard for you?”

Carson shakes her head. “No, Dr. Tomlinson. I’ll calm down.” She goes to stand on Kelli’s right side. Dr. Tomlinson is also gowned and gloved and also has a headlight strapped to his head. He glances up at the gallery and sees the Chief of Surgery plus the other first year interns looking down in the operating room. Harry notices that Dr. Tomlinson takes a deep breath and turns to face the gallery.

“For those taking notes, the patient is in a coma and for the past week has severe swelling in her brain. The swelling has gone down to a safer percentage to where I can replace the part of her skull that was removed during her last surgery. That surgery was performed to stop the bleeding in the brain before it became deadly. I will also remove any bleeders I see in order to speed up the healing process. Interns,” he pauses, takes a breath and Harry sees all the interns sit up with straight backs as the newest surgeon directs his comments to them. “In order to be a neurosurgeon or a surgeon in general, it is highly important, to which I cannot stress enough, for you to have steady hands. One slight shake of your hand can be detrimental to the patient. That said, let’s begin.”

He turns towards Carson--who seems to be trying not to freak out--and gives her a wink. “Steady on, Carson. It’s too late to have second thoughts now.”

Carson nods and hands Dr. Tomlinson his first tool.

Harry keeps an eye on Kelli’s blood pressure and heart rate but he can’t help but watch Dr. Tomlinson work. He works well with Carson and has the most calming voice Harry has ever heard in the O.R. Dr. Tomlinson never raises his voice higher than a murmur and it’s almost hypnotic. Harry can’t seem to look away from the man’s hands, the way he handles the instruments and the way he instructs Carson.

A beeping noise draws Harry’s attention away from Dr. Tomlinson and for a quick second, Harry believes it to be one of the monitors Kelli is attached to. 

“You’re needed in the emergency room, Dr. Styles. Dr. Payne paged 911,” a nurse calls out.

Dr. Tomlinson looks up from his work, his blue eyes shining from behind his surgical spectacles. “Go ahead, Dr. Styles,” he says as he can clearly see the apprehension on Harry’s face. “I’ll send someone to update you.”

“Thank you,” Harry says and takes his pager back from the nurse as he leaves the operating room. He jogs to the stairs and reaches the emergency room. He hears screaming coming from one of the trauma rooms and goes inside. There, he sees a woman thrashing around the table in pain with her right ankle pointing in the wrong direction and Liam trying to put in an I.V.

“What do we got?” Harry asks Liam from his position next to the woman’s head.

“Tracy Curtis, 38, her husband found her on the floor of their bathroom. We think it triggered a premature labor. She’s bleeding around her pelvis.”

Harry looks at the obviously distressed woman and pulls on new gloves. “Mrs. Curtis, I’m Dr. Styles. I need you to stop moving, I know you’re in pain and scared but I need to make sure your baby is safe,” he tries to inform the woman over her screaming but it doesn’t seem as if she’s heard anything he said. “Have you given her any morphine for the pain?” He directs his question to Dr. Payne.

Liam nods his head as he tries to get her to still her legs so he can check for injuries. “It should be kicking in soon.”

Harry takes the woman’s hands in his own and gets her to look him in the eyes. “Mrs. Curtis. Tracy,” he says in a calming voice until she looks up at him. “There we go,” Harry glances over at Liam and the share a look of relief since the screaming has stopped. “Now I’m going to bring in an ultrasound so I can see how your baby is doing. Okay?”

The woman still shakes with silent sobs but she nods her head and wipes her tears away. Harry instructs the nearest nurse to go get the machine and he goes over to Liam. 

“I was just trying to brush my hair. I was just brushing my hair,” she says over and over in a panicked chant.

“Liam,” Harry says in a hushed tone. “What do you think really happened? She’s obviously in shock. Have you gotten anything from the husband?”

Liam shakes his head. “No, the poor man nearly fainted when he saw the blood. We had to escort him to the waiting room with some orange juice to bring his blood sugar back up. I need some bandages please and page ortho—she’s broken her ankle.”

Harry grimaces at the sight of her ankle and moves towards her rounded belly as the nurse brings in the ultrasound. “I’m going to pull your shirt up, so I can do the ultrasound,” he informs the still muttering woman.

“I was just brushing my hair. I was just brushing my hair. I-I haven’t felt him kick in awhile,” she says tearfully. “Maybe he’s just sleeping. Yeah, he must still be sleeping.”

Harry squeezes the jelly on the highest point of her stomach and moves the wand around while looking up at the screen. He sees the baby, a still baby, and looks at the heartbeat and a cold dread washes over him. “I’m seeing a low heart rate. I need to do an emergency C-section. Can she be moved?” He tells Liam, not wanting to panic the mother-to-be any further.

Liam looks at the monitor and curses under his breath. “Yeah, I’ll tell Dr. Parrington to meet us in the O.R.”

Harry looks at one of the nurses. “Book an O.R. Clear the hallway to the elevator.”

“What’s happening?” Tracy asks, her hand immediately going to her stomach.

“Your baby’s heartbeat is severally low and I’m going to need to deliver him as soon as possible so he has a chance of surviving.”

Tracy’s hazel eyes widen and she starts breathing heavily. “What? But it’s too soon. He’s only twenty-six weeks!”

“I have delivered babies as early as twenty weeks. There is a ninety percent chance of your baby’s survival. We will do everything we can to make sure you will leave this hospital with your child,” he says and he pulls up the railing of the bed so she can be moved. “Now, I need you to slow your breathing as best as possible. You’re in good hands, Mrs. Curtis.”

The woman nods and rubs her stomach as she takes deep breaths that Harry leads her through. 

“Ready to move,” a nurse calls out and they hurriedly move the bed out of the trauma room and towards the elevator.

“Someone find Mr. Curtis and inform him of what’s happening!” Harry calls out as they run towards the elevator. 

“Oh my goodness. This can not be happening right now. This isn’t happening,” Tracey says as they push the bed into the elevator and quickly press the button to close the door and head down to the operating floor. Once the doors open, Liam heads to the scrub room to get ready but Harry hangs back to hold Tracey’s hand.

“You’re in good hands Mrs. Curtis,” Harry reassures again and squeezes her hand before the nurses push the bed into the operating room. Harry goes into the operating room, pulls on his scrub cap, and starts washing his hands.

A jolt of energy zips through Harry as he mentally prepares for the surgery. He looks through the window and sees the O.R. nurses set up the trays and prepares everything for Harry to potentially use during the surgery. 

“Oh, good,” Liam says bringing Harry out of his thoughts. “Dr. Parrington is here.”

“How bad was her ankle?”

“Bad enough. Might need surgery on it. A couple pins put in at least.”

Harry hums and finishes up. “I guess we’ll find out.”

The two doctors walk into the operating room and nurses come toward them to dry their hands, put surgical gowns on them, and put their gloves on. The nurses and the doctors move seamlessly together like that practice dance. The repetition of this process gives him another jolt of energy and he’s excited to perform surgery on the woman and save the baby’s life.

Harry gets to work immediately—time is of the essence in cases like this. The sooner Harry can deliver the baby and get him in the incubator, the better it will be.

“Do you need to work on her ankle?” Liam asks Dr. Parrington when the woman enters the operating room and goes over to the appendage.

Dr. Parrington glances at the ankle and nods. “I can wait until the baby is delivered,” she looks at Harry then. “Dr. Styles, she’s all yours.”

Harry nods and begins, his movements are quick and he flows from one action to another and seemingly in the blink of an eye, Harry is pulling a tiny baby boy out from the mother. His heart jumps in his chest when the baby is still and quiet but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. This is what he’s trained for. “Is the warmer ready?” Harry needed to treat the baby and get him into the Neonatal Intense Care Unit quickly. “Welcome to the world little guy.”

Harry places him in the incubator and starts C.P.R. “Bag him please and get a defibrillator over here. C’mon people lets get to work,” Harry instructs and soon a nurse comes over and places a mask over the mouth of the baby and starts pumping the bag that’s attached, forcing air into the lungs and breathing for the baby. Using two fingers, Harry pumps the baby’s heart. 

“C’mon baby. Breathe for me,” Harry mutters as he glances up at the heart monitor that has been attached to the baby. He stops pumping the heart and waits no more than five seconds to see if the boy’s heart will beat on its own. When it doesn’t, he continues the C.P.R. Harry is terrified that the baby’s heart rate won’t be able to sustain a healthy rate. If that’s the case, it’ll only mean more surgery for the newborn. 

After five minutes of C.P.R., Harry notices small movements from the baby—the twitching of fingers and the scrunching of his face. 

“Stop C.P.R. for a moment,” Harry instructs and he grins when he sees the newborn’s mouth open up and release a loud cry. He reaches over and pulls out a stethoscope from a table and listens to the baby’s lungs. Strong but short sounds flood his ears and he nods at the nurses around him. “Okay, let’s prepare to move him to the NICU. We need to monitor him a bit longer. But we have a fighter on our hands.”

The nurses move the monitors to the incubator so they could travel to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and Harry goes back to the scrub room to scrub out. He barely noticed that Dr. Parrington was working on placing Mrs. Curtis’ ankle in its proper place.

Once he was done, he headed out to the main desk on the operating floor. “Jennie,” He greets the nurse behind the desk.

“Dr. Styles.” The nurse smirks up at him. “What can I do for you?”

“I need to open a medical record for a newborn baby.”

“Name?”

“Baby A for Tracy Curtis. She’s still in surgery and I’m not sure where the father is,” Harry explains. 

Jennie nods, pulls out a new file for the baby, and hands it to Harry. He starts filling out the file when out of the corner of his eye he spots Dr. Tomlinson doing the same from a bench up against a wall. Harry takes the moment to take in the neurosurgeon’s facial features. He’d be a fool to not admit that the man was incredibly attractive with cheekbones that would put anyone to shame. Harry’s fingers twitch with the need to trace them. He manages to shake himself out his imagination and goes back to the medical file in front of him. 

Once he’s done what he can, Harry goes to the elevator to go up to see the newborn. He hopes that someone has filled the new father in but he’s not going to worry about that right now. No, now he needs to make sure that the little fighter they have is still fighting. Harry is so wrapped up in his head and the procedures he wants to do to the newborn that he doesn’t realize that Dr. Tomlinson is in the elevator with him until the doctor is clearing his throat.

“I wanted to thank you for what you said before Kelli’s second surgery,” Dr. Tomlinson says as he keeps his eyes on Kelli’s chart.

“It’s not a problem.”

“I also understand the struggle of working under Dr. Cowell,” Dr. Tomlinson says.

“Yeah?”

Dr. Tomlinson scoffs and shakes his head. “Yeah, but that’s a story for another day. I need to check on some patients.”

The elevator door opens and Dr. Tomlinson swiftly exits leaving Harry staring after him wishing more than anything that Dr. Tomlinson could open up to him. He wants to know more about the man. The doors close again before Harry could go after the man and question him about his experience working with Dr. Cowell. The elevator jolts as it continues to climb and he’s shaken out of his thoughts when the doors open up to the Pediatric Floor.

Harry heads to the Neonatal Intense Care Unit to the right of the elevator and sees the various babies in incubators and hears the beeping from the machines they’re attached to. He sees a man wrapped in a pink scrub robe with his hands pressed to the incubator. Harry can tell that the man his crying and he recognizes the baby as the little fighter. 

“Mr. Curtis?” Harry asks as he approaches the man who looks up when his name is called. “I’m Dr. Styles, I performed the emergency c-section on your wife.”

“Oh, yes! How is he? Will he be okay?” Mr. Curtis ask looking down at his baby boy.

Harry studies the monitors and takes notes in the medical file. “Your son’s heart rate is much better than when he came in. He’s breathing on his own which is a good sign. But I would like to keep him in the incubator for a couple days at least. It seems that he lacked proper oxygen flow for a couple minutes and I would like to run some tests to make sure none of his organs were damaged in your wife’s fall.”

The longer Harry explained about the newborn, the more he could see the new father panic and become stressed. “Mr. Curtis. I promise that I will do everything I can to make sure that your son will be healthy. He’s a little fighter and I’m confident that this will be smooth sailing but I want to cover all of our bases if the worst were to happen.”

Mr. Curtis takes a deep breath and nods. He looks down at his newborn son and Harry sees a smile start to grace his face. 

“Do you have a name for him?” Harry asks gently.

“Um,” Mr. Curtis looks up. “We were bouncing around two names. I-I’d like to talk to my wife, though. Can I see her?”

Harry nods. “Of course. Go to the nurse’s desk and they’ll tell you what room number your wife is on. She may be groggy from anesthesia.” Mr. Curtis nods and takes one last look at his newborn before leaving the room. Harry puts the chart up and goes to each baby in the NICU and checks their vitals and makes notes in their own charts. 

Soon, Harry’s stomach starts growling and he heads down to the cafeteria. He grabs a salad that’s already made and a packet of dressing. He goes to the covered patio and digs in. He practically lets out a moan and devours the meal. He’s walking back to the elevator when a hand jots out of a supply closet and drags him in the room. Harry is about to shout when familiar lips cover his own.

Harry groans as Dr. Woodwork presses him up against the now closed door. He lifts his hands to Keith’s shoulders to steady himself. Their lips move sloppily and rushed but Harry doesn’t really care. It’s been ages since they’ve been able to be together, even in the simplest way. But something seems off to Harry when he pulls away for air.

“Is that perfume?” He questions his boyfriend.

“What are you talking about?”

Harry leans closer and takes a sniff of Keith’s scrubs. “Why is there perfume on your scrubs?”

Keith scoffs. “Hell if I know. Do you want to get dinner tonight?”

“I’m working until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh well, I won’t wait up for you then,” Keith comments and shoulders past Harry and leaves the room.

And Harry is left in a chilly supply closet wondering what the hell is happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to talk? Message me at [tumblr](http://www.daggerandrose.tumblr.com)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very much aware that this update is overdue but I'm at a transitional time in my life. From graduating college to finding my place in the world. Please be patient with me as I do my best to balance everything I have going on.

When Harry leaves the supply closet, he runs straight into Dr. Horan. 

“Harry!” The general surgeon greets and Harry has to school his expression. “What’s wrong?” Niall asks, immediately picking up on Harry’s mood, going through residency together tends to give them a sixth sense for when the other is upset.

“Oh, nothing. I’m fine,” Harry says and clears his throat while straightening out his scrubs.

“Okay,” Niall says hesitantly but Harry knows that there’s no way Niall didn’t just see Keith leaving the same supply closet Harry came out of. He can put two and two together. “Well, Liam and I are going to the bar across the street tonight if you want to come? I think Louis is coming too.”

Harry pauses when they step in the elevator. “Who’s Louis?”

Niall gives him a bewildered look. “Louis Tomlinson? The new Neuro god everyone’s been talking about the past week! Where have you been?”

“Oh,” Harry says and fiddles with his hair. “I didn’t know his first name was Louis.”

“Yeah, he’s ace. I’ve already been in a few surgeries with him. He’s fantastic!”

Harry nods and then something Niall said comes back to him. “Wait, did you say ‘Neuro god’?”

Niall laughs and nods his head. “Yeah, the nurses are raving about him. Calling him McSteamy or something like that which you know is a bit much. He’s been here for about a month and he already has a nickname. I’ve been here five years and still don’t have one.”

Harry pouts only slightly. “Well, I guess he is.”

“Is what?”

“Steamy.”

Niall smirks at him. “Steamy, eh? Do you like him? I’ve heard that you’ve had a few surgeries with him too.”

Harry goes to answer and then pauses. What did he think of Dr. Tomlinson? He hasn’t had that many conversations with the man and when he has, they’ve been about the patients. He can tell Dr. Tomlinson is passionate about his work and his patients but those are only thing he knows about the new surgeon. That and he use to work with Dr. Cowell which Harry still wants to know more about. “I don’t really know what I think about him to be completely honest.”

Niall claps him on the back just as the elevator door opens to the cafeteria floor. “I guess you’ll have to come to the bar to find out.

Harry rolls his eyes and follows his friend into the cafeteria and immediately grabs a salad, a bottle of water, and a brownie. Sue him, he’s earned a bit of a treat.

They sit at a table near the windows. For once, it’s sunny in Seattle and Harry doesn’t want to miss seeing it since he’s almost always away from windows while he works.

“Any interesting surgeries lately, Niall?” Harry asks the general surgeon as he digs into his lunch.

Niall nods his head since his mouth is full of his sandwich. “Kinda. I had to fix a botched appy. This guy went to a really sketch doctor’s office to get an appendectomy and ended up getting a major infection.”

“A doctor’s office? Really?”

Niall’s eyes widen. “Yes! You wouldn’t believe this guy’s reasoning for it too! He wanted to save money. Save. Money. The only reason he came to the hospital was because his niece tricked him and drove him straight to the emergency room. He was yelling the entire time.”

“Geez,” Harry says shaking his head. “People are crazy.”

“Yes, but it’s the crazies that keeps us busy.”

Harry laughs and points his fork at his friend. “You get the crazies adults while I get the crazy teenagers.”

“Oh, yeah, prom season is around, isn’t it.”

“Yep, already had to operate to get a dildo out of a boy’s ass and condom out of a girl’s lung just today.”

Niall throws his head back laughing. “Good Lord, that’s brutal.” 

“Not quite the romantic night I’m sure they were planning with their dates,” Harry chuckles and drizzles more vinaigrette over his salad. 

“It was in her lung?”

Harry nods and Niall winces and clears his throat.

“Please tell me you gave her a proper talking to about safe sex,” Niall says.

Harry snorts. “I didn’t have to, I had to call her parents to inform them of the surgery and they didn’t stop talking about sex between her and her boyfriend until the girl went in for pre-operation care. Poor girl was traumatized.”

“Wait?” Niall pauses and takes a sip of his drink. “What about her boyfriend? Where was he?”

Harry shrugs. “Fucked off I guess. I only saw the parents.”

“High schoolers.”

“High schoolers,” Harry agrees and goes back to his lunch.

 

Considering it’s a Thursday night, Harry thought the bar would be more crowded than it is when he arrives. He spots Niall and Liam at the corner of the bar, talking to the bartender, Jack, and he meanders his way over, only stumbling once, and hops up onto the bar stool.

“There’s the Curly one!” Jack says, reaching down under the bar top and pulling out a martini glass. “Want the usual?” 

Harry chuckles and nods his head towards the glass already in Jack’s hands. “I guess I am.”

“Good ‘ol Dr. Styles here has been dealing with the after effects of teenaged sexual escapades for the past few hours,” Niall says, throwing his arm around Harry.

Liam laughs into his beer mug. “So you spent the night getting things out of embarrassed teenagers and dealing with angry parents?” He asks Harry who nods. “Ha! Got it. Seems like a fun day’s work.”

Harry smiles in thanks as Jack hands him his cocktail and turns back to his friends. “Yeah, all it makes me want to do is go to the schools and make sure that they’re teaching the students proper sex ed. One of the guys tried to convince me that wearing three condoms was a good idea.”

“Thinking of hanging up your stethoscope for a teaching job, Dr. Styles?” Harry hears Dr. Tomlin—Louis— ask from behind him before Niall could make a comment about how very much wrong that misinformed teenager was. Harry turns his head to see the man dressed in tight black jeans and a dark green hoodie which only makes Harry want to pull him to his body and share his warmth. He shakes off that feeling when Louis looks away from him.

“Tommo! You made it!” Niall cheers and comes over to the side of the bar to hug the neuro surgeon. 

Louis smiles, the corner of his eyes crinkling and reciprocates the hug. “Told you I would stop by for a drink or two.”

“Yeah, but you usually scamper off right after your shift,” Liam points out.

Louis shrugs and leans against the bar top. “I changed my mind.” The man shifts his gaze briefly to Harry before smiling down at his hands and turning to face Jack to give him his drink order. 

Harry takes a long sip of his cocktail and tries to look away from Louis’s body leaning against the bar top but fails. His hoodie is the perfect compliment to Louis’ skin tone. How in the world can a hoodie make someone attractive? And his jeans show off the curve of his legs which only makes Harry appreciate the various stairs and the constant standing being a surgeon calls for even more. He clears his throat and looks over to where Niall is smirking at him over his beer mug. 

“So,” Harry starts, his face feeling hot. “Did everyone see the news about Dr. Cowell moving to research?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees Louis stiffen for a second but he ignores it as Liam scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“At least he isn’t tormenting the new doctors anymore,” Liam says and Niall lifts his glass up in agreement.

“Wait,” Louis says looking around at the three of them. “You all don’t like Simon Cowell?”

“Not at all,” Liam says politely even though Harry knows all he wants to do is curse the man’s name.

“Really?” Louis says smirking. “I thought everyone worshipped him.”

“Definitely not,” Harry says causing Louis to look over at him. “The man was terrifying, even to the patients. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were asked to step down to research.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Liam asks.

“He means that the Board of Directors finally got it through their thick skulls that Simon is a dirty rotten excuse of a doctor who could make the most kindest person feel as though they were dying in a pit of anguish. Not very appealing for a surgeon, no matter how talented they are,” Niall explains and Harry nods in agreement.

“Good on that then,” Liam says and Louis smiles into his glass.

 

The four doctors eventually ordered food and found a booth to sit in so they’re not crowding the bar anymore as more people trickle in. Harry’s exhaustion melts away with each cocktail he drinks and each bite of cheesy fries he eats. The only thing that has been bothering Harry is the surgeon sitting across from him. Harry keeps on seeing Louis look at him several times throughout the night and not just because Harry’s talking and Louis is giving him his attention but small glances every now and then as if Louis wants to see Harry’s reaction to the conversation or to Louis’ pranks. Which apparently, he has a lot of from when he was in medical school.

“I don’t see how you weren’t kicked out!” Liam says after Louis finished up telling the three of them how he filled a ballon with confetti and hid it in one of the plastic practice dummies during class which resulted in his professor only glaring at him and made him clean up the mess.

“What can I say,” Louis says with a shrug. “Everyone loves me.”

“Mmm, not Mrs. Kinney,” Niall points out as he steals the last of the fries.

“Oh, fuck yeah I forgot about her,” Louis says with a giggle and slouches back in the seat.

“Who?” Harry asks, confused as to why the others are currently giggling like crazy.

Louis looks over at Harry with a soft expression and Harry’s face starts to feel warm again… all from just a look. “Mrs. Kinney’s husband was my patient and she almost refused to let me touch her husband after she learned that I was born on the 24th.”

“Huh?” Harry scrunches his eyebrows together.

“Mrs. Kinney was highly superstitious and only wanted odd numbers to ‘surround’ her husband,” Louis explains and Harry swears that Louis’ foot purposefully bumps into his own. “Rooms, odd numbered windows in the room, pillows, fucking everything. She about gave Liam an aneurism when she found out she was in an even numbered room.”

Liam buries his head in his hands and groans. “She wouldn’t stop yelling at me about it. Even when I told her that the other trauma rooms were full from a car accident.”

“I once had a patient who wanted to be facing north the entire time he was in the building,” Niall explains and takes a swig of his beer.

“Gotta love the job, keeps you on your toes,” Harry says lifting his cocktail glass up.

The other lads clang their glasses together in cheers and Harry feels the weight of Louis’ gaze on him. He flushes under the stare and looks down at his watch. 11:35pm. 

“Uh,” he says looking back up. “I need head out. My shift starts at seven tomorrow.”

Harry is very much aware of Louis’ steady gaze as he gets up but he doesn’t return it.

“Aww c’mon Haz,” Niall says. “You’ve run on less amount of sleep before.”

Harry releases a breathy laugh and backs away. “Yeah, I know, but that was when I was younger. I’m practically an old man now.”

Niall waves him off and Liam raises his eyebrows in farewell saying, “See you tomorrow, Haz.”

Harry waves goodbye to them and turns away before he can see Louis wave him off. As he walks to his car, and even as he drives home, he’s stuck wondering why in the world Louis has been staring at him all night. The man didn’t even seen to be bothered by Harry’s story about how he wanted to become a doctor—a story that Niall and Liam have never let him finish because, according to them, he was taking too long to tell it. 

Louis, on the other hand, only propped up his head on his hand and let Harry ramble on and on about the doctor’s kit he received for Christmas when he was four years old and how he kept it all through high school. Louis almost seemed…charmed by the story. Not even Keith let Harry tell stories for so long. He always interrupted them by pulling Harry in for a kiss or walking away or starting a new conversation.

But Keith has been with Harry for almost two years. Maybe he was just getting tired of Harry’s stories by then. And Harry doesn’t know that much about Louis. Maybe Louis is really patient with people.

Harry shakes his head as if to ward off the confusion as he pulls into his driveway. When he gets into the house, he stands and stares at the things around him. He suddenly feels conscious of how he and Keith look in the pictures he has lying around his home. Especially of how Keith is looking at him. Of how Keith almost always has a hand on the back of Harry’s neck. 

Harry reaches up and rubs the back of his neck and leans forward to pull down one picture. It was a selfie he took of him and Keith on their two year anniversary. Keith had shown up late, due to a surgery, but they managed to make it to the restaurant and eat. The picture was taken afterwards. Right before Keith had to duck out to go to another surgery. 

That was one of the major downsides of dating a cardiologist. Especially one who was much sought after as Keith Woodwork is. There have been many times when Harry has wished that everyone would stop having heart attacks or their pacemakers would work just for one night so he and Keith could have sometime to themselves. 

Harry goes to put the picture down when he notices something in particular. Keith has a dreamy look on his face and Harry always thought that Keith was looking at him with that look. Now, Harry follows Keith's line of sight and the man is looking at something over Harry’s shoulder. 

He furrows his brows and feels the need to throw the picture across the room. Has Keith been cheating on Harry all this time? He places the picture face down on the table, not wanting to deal with all of that just yet. He just wants to sleep right now.

 

It takes Harry a few moments to get up and moving the next morning. It’s six in the morning and he had about five hours of sleep. He laid in bed for about an hour after his shower thinking about Louis and Keith. Mainly about his past with Keith. 

Memories, now beginning to tarnish, are still running through Harry’s head as he walks in the hospital an hour later. When he walks in the Attending’s lounge, Louis is already there and getting his doctor’s coat on.

“Morning, Dr. Styles,” Louis greets with a smile and something warm curls in Harry’s stomach.

“Good morning, Dr. Tomlinson,” he replies and he feels his cheeks redden. He clears his throat and pulls out his own coat from his locker. Other Attendings filter in and Harry is very much aware of Louis getting ready beside of him. How had he not noticed that their lockers were right next to one another?

“Have a good day,” Louis says and passes behind him, his hand pressing Harry’s waist and the neuro surgeon squeezes past him. 

“You too,” Harry replies a second too late and he looks around to see if anyone noticed it. He quickly grabs the rest of the things he needs and walks out to head to the pediatric floor.

He checks up on Tommy who still has a couple rounds of chemo to go through until Harry needs to reassess his progress and Lila Perry who needs a kidney transplant. He was going through the procedure with Lila’s parents and the twelve year old herself when Harry’s pager goes off. 

“The donor kidney should be arriving this afternoon,” he says and he glances down at his pager. He pauses when he sees the words “Kelli 911” flashed on the screen. Harry looks up at Lila’s parents. “Excuse me for a moment, something’s just come up.” He turns to the intern, Sarah, and tells her to continue where he left off before he hurries out of the room and over to Kelli’s room.

When he enters, Kelli’s room, he’s astonished to see the girl blinking blearing up at the lights. Carson is standing at her bedside, chart laid to the side, and talking softly at the girl. “It’s okay Kelli, you’re safe. You’ve just had an accident.”

Harry turns the lights off and goes to open the blinds so some light can filter in. Carson turns to look at him and nods when he steps to Kelli’s other side. “Hi, Kelli,” Harry says quietly, “My name is Dr. Harry. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Where’s my mom and my dad?” Kelli asks looking up at Harry with confused eyes.

Harry mentally panics as he realizes that he has to break the news to the girl that she probably won’t be seeing her mother for a while and that she’s not going to see her dad again. 

“Your mom’s not here right now since it’s so early,” Carson starts when she notices Harry’s hesitation.

“Kelli,” Harry says taking out his stethoscope. “I need to do a quick check up to make sure that everything is okay. You’ve been asleep for quite awhile.”

Kelli looks up at him and he can see the clear hesitation on her face. “Are my parents coming soon?”

Harry looks up at Carson who is giving him a panicked look with wide eyes and her hands clenched on Kelli’s file. “My friend, Natalie, is going to make a call.” He gives a reassuring smile to the young girl who nods her head and settles back against the pillows.

Carson walks over to leave the room when Harry steps to the side and whispers, “Page the Chief and get the CPS agent. Then come back and stay with Kelli.” Carson nods and swift leaves the room. 

Kelli is quiet and corporative as Harry takes her blood pressure, checks her incision on her head. 

“Did something bad happen?” Kelli asks as Harry updates her file. 

“What makes you think that?”

Kelli pulls the covers up higher on her body and Harry makes a mental note to get her more blankets when he steps out. “I have a funny feeling that something bad happened.”

Harry looks at her and sees that she’s very much wanting a straight answer. Just as he goes to tell her, someone clears their throat and the two look towards the door and the Chief of Surgery is standing by the door. “Hello, Kelli,” the Chief greets and steps in the room. 

“Who are you?” Kelli says looking warily at the man. 

Dr. Azoff smiles at the girl and glances up at Harry. “Dr. Styles, I’ve got it from here.”

Which Harry took as the doctor’s polite way of telling him that this was Chief business. Harry nods, smiles at Kelli, and leaves the room. Carson is by the nurse’s desk and waves him over once they make eye contact. “Yes?” He asks when he comes over.

“The Chief wants you to call the CPS agent with the updates to Kelli’s condition.” She says and hands him a piece of paper with the agent’s number on it.

Harry nods, takes the paper, and thanks her. He walks into the private room behind the nurse’s desk to call the CPS agent. 

“Dr. Styles?” the CPS agent asks once the dial tone stops. 

“Yes, is this,” he looks at the paper. “Ms. Walker?” Once he gets a confirmation he proceeds to tell the CPS agent in charge of Kelli’s case about her current condition.

“Oh well that sounds promising,” Ms. Walker says and Harry hears the rustling of papers in the background. “We’ve already contacted Kelli’s aunt who has agreed to take Kelli while we fully work out Kelli’s case.”

Harry nods despite the woman not being able to see him. His pager goes off at that moment and he looks down to see Keith paging him 911 from the emergency room. “I apologize Ms. Walker, but I’m being paged.”

“Of course, have a good day,” the woman says and hangs up the phone.

Harry springs out of his seat and heads to the stairs rather than elevator because he knows it will take too long.

When he gets into the emergency room, he’s waved over to a partitioned section by Prescott. 

“What do we’ve got?” He asks, pulling on gloves.

Lying on the bed is a young boy with lines already hooked up to him. One for a heart monitor, another for a blood pressure. A nurse is kneeling on the floor by the head of the bed and glances down to see a pair of legs sticking out.

Keith is standing to the side with a stern look on his face. “Micah Peterson. Six years old but I can’t understand what’s wrong. The woman who came in with him passed out the moment she saw the IV go in,” He says with a really frustrated huff.

“Will Micah not talk?”

“He’s deaf. He’s practically useless and his teacher isn’t any better,” Keith practically spits out and glances down at the passed out woman before looking behind him and waving over a couple of interns. “Carefully pick up this woman and put her in the bed beside here.” 

The boy, who’s been looking as the adults move around him. Harry gets in his line of sight and waves hi to the boy.

Micah waves and signs “ _Who are you_?”

Harry gives a mental praise to Past-Harry that he took American Sign Language in his first years of college. “ _Hi, I’m Dr. Harry. Can I ask you a few questions?_ ” When Micah nods, Harry signs “ _Are you hurting anywhere_?”

Micah nods and points to his chest. 

Okay, Harry thinks, chest pains could either be something wrong with his heart or lungs. He glances back at the monitors. “ _How much does it hurt on a scale from 1-10?_ ”

Micah holds up seven fingers and Harry winces. He looks back at Prescott, “Did the woman say anything before she passed out?” 

Prescott takes a deep sigh, “Only that he passed out during playtime and she rushed him over.”

“Let’s get blood work, CT scan, and X-ray,” Harry instructs to Prescott who goes off to get everything prepared.

Harry turns back to the boy and signs that he will be taking care of him. 

The younger boy nods and looks over to his teacher who is still passed out on the cot next to him. “ _What about my teacher_?”

“ _I’ll take care of her too_.” Harry glances around him, notices a nurse and waves her over. “Please take care of her and let me know the second she wakes up.” The nurse nods and Harry signs “ _She’ll be fine_.” 

Another nurse comes over and wheels Micah out of the emergency room to go get a CT scan.

Meanwhile, Harry goes over Keith by the nurse's station. “What was that?”

Keith looks up from the chart he was filling out. “What are you talking about?” 

“Back there, with Micah?” Harry says, rushing out his words and talking low so no one can hear them.

“The kid couldn’t hear me. It’s not like I was offending him,” Keith says offhandedly and moves past Harry and Harry watches him as he goes. How could he act like this? Has he always acted like this? 

Harry scoffs as he goes down to the CT scan to see if the results are up yet for Micah. He can’t deal with the drama with Keith. He has a patient to take care of. 

 

“He complained about a patient being deaf?” Niall says during lunch.

“And didn’t even care!” Harry says and furiously stabs his salad before reaching over and pouring more. “I should have gotten more croutons.”

Niall snorts and shakes his head. “He’s an ass. I’ve told you this before.” 

“Ugh,” Harry groans and slouches back in his chair. “I know. I should have listened to you earlier.”

“About what?” Louis asks as he sets his tray down. 

“Keith Woodwork,” Niall gives.

“Ugh,” Louis winces. “What did the cardio god do this time?” He asks with sarcasm dripping from his words.

“Insulted a deaf patient.”

Louis looks over to Harry with wide eyes. “He what?”

“Oh yeah, and the patient is six year old boy named Micah who’s teacher passed out the moment the nurse put in an IV,” Harry supplies and takes a big swig of his drink. 

“What an ass.”

“That’s what I said!” Niall says lifting his drink up in cheers before turning back to Harry. “You’re not still dating him, are you?” 

“I..um,” Harry says and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t think I am.”

“You don’t think? You mean you’re not sure?”

Harry sighs and sits back in his chair. “I say I think we’re still together because neither one of us actually said the words ‘we’re broken up’ or ‘let’s end this relationship’.”

“Do you really need it to be spelled out for you? Especially with someone like him?” Louis asks pointedly.

“Like who?” Liam asks and takes a seat next to Harry. “What’re we talking about gents?”

“Keith Woodwork,” Louis says still looking at Harry. “I haven’t been here long but what I do know is that Woodwork is an arrogant ass who thinks he’s above everyone else in this hospital.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Liam mutters under his breath and Harry looks over at him shocked. He thought his friends liked Keith. They seemed happy for him when he told them that he and Keith were dating.

“Excuse me, Liam. That’s not what you were saying when we started dating.” Liam exchanges glances with Niall and Harry makes a disgruntled noise. “I can’t believe you two!”

“It’s not like we don’t like the man,” Liam starts.

“But we do,” Niall says under his breath before Liam kicks him in the shin and Niall throws a fry at his head.

“ _But_ we just thought that you weren’t actually going to _date_ him for so long. We thought it was fling.”

“A hit it and quit it type situation,” Niall clarifies nonchalantly.

“I-” Harry starts but is interrupted by a nurse coming over to their table.

“Dr. Styles, Micah Peterson’s scans have come up,” he says and he holds up the scans for Harry to see.

“Is this the deaf kid?” Louis asks as the others look at the scans.

“Yeah,” Harry says with a deep sigh and nods. “Has the teacher he came in with woken up yet?"

“Yes, sir. She’s alert and is already in Micah’s room. Room 4194."

“Okay, thank you,” Harry says and takes the scans from the nurse who nods and walks away. “Looks like my lunch just got cut short.”

He takes Micah’s scans and gets up from the table, feeling eyes on his back as he walks out of the room and to the pediatric floor. The scans show that Micah could possibly have heart arrhythmia. Overexertion could have caused him to pass out and he could need a pacemaker. A pacemaker at six years old. He pages Keith the moment he gets into the elevator and hopes that the cardio surgeon can be on his best behavior while in front of the boy and his teacher.

 

“Surgery?” The teacher says after Harry is finished informing her about Micah’s condition. “I-I don’t know if I can be here for that.”

“Well, where are his parents?” Harry questions.

“They’re on their way. I’m hoping that they’ll get here soon.” The woman says and she leans in closer to Harry as if Micah could hear what she’s about to say. “I’m not cut out for this. I’m a new teacher. Just an assistant really. I didn’t sign up for hospital visits when I decided to be a teacher.”

Harry has to take a deep breath and looks away from the woman to keep himself from yelling at her for being insensitive. “I understand but you are the only one Micah knows. He’s in a hospital and he needs someone here with him until his parents arrive. You have to be that person.”

The woman just stares at him before turning back to Micah. Thankfully the boy is sleeping so he can’t see the internal struggle his teacher is going through. Harry has to wait until the parents arrive before he can proceed with the surgery. He backs out of the room, keeping his eyes on the sleeping boy because that’s who he should be worried about. That’s the person that the teacher should be worried about. Not herself but the child in front of her who is missing his parents and in need of someone to temporarily take that role.

Harry hopes that the teacher is still there when he returns later to check on Micah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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